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"God, Priest," she mumbled with a shake of her head.

When he stressed how tough security would be, she never expected all of this. Cyro proceeded through security, making sure to stop at the entrance of the parking garage to slightly roll Britain's window down to ensure they realized that she was in the vehicle. Britain shot Stu, who was second in command after Cyro, a polite wave, which he returned. "Welcome back,Mrs. Justice," he said to her before giving Cyro the signal to proceed into the parking garage.

Britain chuckled lightly at the fact that everyone was referring to her as Mrs. Justice. The massive ring she was sporting on her finger was now the first thing anyone would notice. Once Cyro secured ground floor parking, he exited the vehicle to grab all her bags. Then he aided her out of the car so they could make their way toward the elevator. There, she placed her palm against the scanner, bypassing the security measures. The thick steel doors glided open, allowing them entrance. Theywere quickly lifted to the top floor. The doors parted ways again, allowing them into the penthouse.

The penthouse was usually fairly dark, but it had changed drastically. The color scheme of the decor seemed to have brightened with Jazzlyn's touch. Britain was in awe at the number of changes Jazzy made to the penthouse. It was a beautiful spot but didn't have much to offer if it wasn't filled with loved ones.

"Jazzy!" Britain called out, hoping her soon-to-be sister-in-law would appear to greet her.

At the call of her name, there was a silence, indicating that Jazzy wasn't home at the time of her arrival. "She isn't here?" Britain looked over her shoulder at Cyro, who had sat her bags down.

Cyro's broad shoulders motioned in a shrug. "You okay in here?" he asked, preparing for his exit and heading back toward the elevator doors.

A light pout graced Britain's face as she looked around the penthouse once more. She was really anticipating seeing Jazzy. Seeing her would have given her the sense of home she felt was missing while she was on the jet. After a brief moment, Britain nodded. "Thanks, Cyro." She expressed her gratitude with slight disappointment weighing down her words.

Cyro nodded his head before proceeding to make his exit. Once the elevator doors shut behind him, Britain let out a heavy sigh before plopping down on the brand-new couch in the living room. "Definitely not the warm welcome I imagined," she mumbled as she folded her arms across her chest.

She had high hopes for her visit back home since she had been missing New York severely. She never expected her first few hours in the city would turn out to be a bust like this. Here she was sitting alone in a penthouse that reminded her of nothing but Priest. She was sure security would be followingPriest's every word, which meant taking her bags elsewhere to get the warm welcome she was itching for wouldn't be as easy as she wanted it to be.

"Welcome back, Britain," she mumbled to herself with great disappointment.

INTERCONTINENTAL HOTEL

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

Jazzlyn’s orbs hawked over the small glass that was being filled with clear liquor. Once it was halfway full, the pouring stopped, and the glass was pushed gently in her direction. She stared at its contents, the strong aroma of the tequila striking her nose instantly.

"Why you never available for me?" was the first question that was cast onto Jazzy's ears.

The question caused her to screw up her face like she always would whenever some bullshit was being directed her way. She diverted her attention from the glass and focused it to the right of her. There sat none other than Cameron, thanking the bartender for his portion of the tequila bottle Jazzy had requested a drink from. It took a lot of teeth pulling to get her all this way, so he definitely wasn't looking to waste any time.

An amused chuckle aired out of her as her finger slowly circled around the coated rim of her shot glass, collecting all the grains of salt she could. "Why do I need to be so available to you, Cameron?" She returned his question with a question of her own.

As she waited for his response, she licked her finger of all the salt before taking the tequila shot to the head. She sat the now empty shot glass back down. She definitely needed something to get through Cameron's emotional spiel. "You were before.What's different now?" He folded his hands, sitting them on the bar top.

Denying the fact that she was ever available to him, she shook her head. "Let's not do this, Cameron. You should be glad I even came," she snarled, waving him off.

Cameron smacked his lips. "You only came for some dick."

Screwing up her face once more, Jazzlyn gazed in Cameron's direction. "Was that ever a problem before? What's the issue now?" She tilted her head to the side.

"You cold blooded," Cameron mumbled and shook his head, attempting to shame her.

Jazzy inhaled a deep breath. Cameron had his flaws, but he wasn't completely intolerable. He had his shit together, his money was right, and he was fine as hell, but that just wasn't enough for Jazzy. She wasn't looking to solidify anything, and that was where their wires crossed. Sex was one thing, but Cameron liked to take it an extra mile. He wanted to be exclusive, have tabs on her every move and brand her as if she was some trophy he wanted to put on display. Jazzy wasn't with that at all. She liked the liberty of being an independent woman who could do as she pleased. Cameron wanted to put limitations on her and assert this odd level of authority, almost as if she was his child.

Jazzy couldn't even take orders from her brother who had dedicated his life to raising her. Who did Cameron think he was to try to demand her to do anything? Like any other past situations that she'd been in where men got to acting just like Cameron, she figured the harsher and colder she was to them, the quicker they would pull back, but Cameron was the exact opposite.

"Cameron, you called me here," she reminded him. "To your fancy hotel." She then gestured her hand around the hotel bar.

"To apologize," he clarified.

In annoyance, Jazzy threw her head back. "You've done that already. How I feel and what was said prior to this isn't changing."

After Cameron chatted around the club, claiming Jazzy as his, she showed him how cold she could really be. Cameron just couldn't understand what was so different about her. It was almost like she had him eating out the palm of her hand. She was intoxicating to say the least.

"Cameron, let's be realistic. We agreed that this—" she motioned her finger between them both, "would just be physical needs being met. I don't need a man to confide in, and I’m not searching for companionship. I'm good on all that. I'm sure you've done what I'm doing now to many women. Why are you acting so confused now? I thought we kept shit playa around here?" She tauntingly tapped Cameron's face with her palm as an amused smirk cast onto her own face.

His oak brown orbs bore into her. She could tell she had rubbed him the wrong way, but he was still willing to give her what she wanted.